


And You, (Steve’s life from ‘05-‘06)

by dadjeandilf



Series: And Them [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 18:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18744691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadjeandilf/pseuds/dadjeandilf
Summary: Bucky slipped his cold arms into Steve's coat for a hug. Steve held him close with his free arm, eyes closing at the feeling of warm cheeks against his chest. They stood like that for a while, listening to the distant chaos that was New York, all wrapped up in each other.A sickly sweet and somewhat poetic Stucky college AU.





	And You, (Steve’s life from ‘05-‘06)

Jan 7, 2005 

"Hey there," Steve said as he offered his hand to the stranger starring back at him. Well ok, the guy wasn't a complete stranger, Steve saw him around school rather often. "Uh, I'm not sure if you recognize me but we have the same english class, I usually sit towards the front... I'm Steve." 

The stranger shook Steve's hand despite his palm being so obviously moist. He hated that his hand chose that moment to be all clammy and gross, he blamed it on nerves. He wiped his palm down the front of his sweater, hoping that it would sop up the excess sweat. He was in way over his head, Steve wasn't good at social interactions, not really anyway. He'd been trying to work up the courage to talk to the stranger for days, rehearsing how the whole thing would go in his head. 

Steve wanted to slap himself for this, he could've, he should've, God knows he needed to anyway. He was acting so out of character, so cliche, he was setting himself up to be one of those, 'Hopeless Romantics,' the kind you see on Hallmark. There he was, a young college student, away for the semester, infatuated with a stranger, a handsome stranger, long hair and all that nonsense. He even had a jean jacket; one that made him look like he was starring in a 90's film. 

"Hi, Steve." 

The handsome stranger smiled. Steve noted that he had one of those 'I brush and floss twice a day, what are cavities?' smiles. It was irritating how nice it was, his smile. Steve didn't usually notice people's smiles... ok, well he did, but never their individual teeth. It was nauseating, they were so white and straight.

Steve felt like this interaction was already off to a bad start. He wanted to backtrack, to start over. But that wouldn't really make any sense because all he'd said was 'hey there, I'm Steve,' and yes, Steve is a bad name but other than that he assumed he hadn't embarrassed himself too much.

"And er, you're James right?," Steve said, closing his eyes momentarily, silently shunning himself. Now he knew he'd embarrassed himself thoroughly. He felt his face getting warm, felt his body start to shake in a moment of nervous betrayal. He sounded dumb, or like a stalker, or better yet, all of the above: a dumb stalker. You'd never guess that he was a 3rd year college student based on that interaction alone, he was really living up to the cliche; a well versed man who turns into a blubbering mess because of love, or something like love anyway. He opened his eyes again, "the only reason I know that is cus I hear the professor call it all the time, you know... when he takes roll." 

Steve realized he didn't have much time to turn the conversation around, the handsome stranger had his arms folded over his chest defensively, things weren't looking so good. The moment called for a joke, he would humor his way out of the situation. Well he thought anyway. 

"This isn't, I mean I'm not dumb... well my major is art, which is the major that requires the least amount of brains... I'm sorry... if you're an art major too I just, I just realized this is sounding sort of offensive... this was my version of a joke." 

Steve was warm to the touch, he could feel himself turning into the human version of the sun, or the devils armpit, or something else horrible and sweaty. But he was focusing entirely too much on himself, he needed to focus on the man in front of him, the handsome stranger, the one who looked like he was from Woodstock and knew what 'kombucha' was. 

James tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brows; he looked concerned, "That was a joke?" 

Steve's mind was suddenly a black hole; every coherent thought was absorbed, leaving only a whirlwind of hormones and emotions in their place. He'd spent too long staring at James' eyes, soaking in the sound of his voice, paying attention to the way he pronounced his words. He tried to pull himself out of this trance, he was beginning to panic at the thought of taking too long to reply. He looked down at his feet, the smell of James's shower gel hitting him at the worst time possible, causing his head to further dissolve into mush as he tried to come back to the conversation.

"Yeah, uh.." 

"Here, this is how you make a joke," James interrupted, fixing his posture and clearing his throat, "uh, what do you call a rooster staring at a pile of lettuce?" 

"I'm not sure" 

"A chicken sees a salad!" 

It took Steve a moment, he wasn't prepared for the answer, in all fairness he wasn't really prepared for the question either but, there he was, finally comprehending the joke and letting his face show that he was impressed. 

"Good one," he said with a chuckle, things were looking up: well not really, but they almost were. 

When James gave a laugh in return Steve lost his train of thought all over again. It's like his brain couldn't decide between savoring the sound of James' laugh or continuing to participate in the conversation. 

"You can call me Bucky by the way, no one really calls me James." 

Steve liked the way Bucky sounded, it was far less intimidating than James, it put him at ease... a little. 

"Ok, Bucky," he replied, testing out the name, "and you can call me Steve, cus... well, that's my name." 

"Ok, Steve," Bucky said with another small laugh. 

The pair fell into one of those unavoidable silences, like when you have nothing to say but can't seem to walk away from the conversation; it was uncomfortable. Steve fidgeted as he racked his brain for something to say. Bucky just swayed back and forth in the cold, nose red, hands stuffed in the pockets of his 90's film jacket.  

Steve figured he should just go for it; this is what all of the light stalking and Wikipedia browsing was for. 'How to Talk to a Guy You Like:14 steps (with pictures)', had been bookmarked on google for at least a week, just staring at him, waiting for him to make a move. 

He looked up at Bucky, long hair tucked behind his frozen ears, blue eyes glazed over with the chill of the afternoon. Steve gazed down at his coat, messing with it as he spoke, hoping to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. 

"This is random, and probably a little bit too forward but, do you think you'd maybe wanna grab lunch... with me?" 

Bucky's brows shot up at Steve's invitation, his mouth sort of falling open as he took a step back; a small grin making its was onto his face. 

"Er, you mean like right now?" 

Steve nodded, "Yeah..." 

"You're not going to try and make anymore jokes are you?" Bucky asked, his face conveying the warmest, most wholesome smile Steve had ever seen; pearly whites and all. 

Steve decided in that moment that he was in love with Bucky's smile; Bucky's smile, Bucky's rosy winter cheeks, Bucky's long pretty hair (and the way he kept it tucked behind his ears), Bucky's blue-blue-blue eyes, the bluest eyes Steve had ever seen... 

He paused to breath in, the intoxicating smell of Bucky washing over him once again as he willed himself to respond. 

"Why? Is that a deal breaker?" he asked. 

Bucky shrugged playfully, " I dunno, Is this like a date?" 

Was it a date? Steve didn't really know what to say, didn't know how to react. During all his online research and puppy love daydreaming he'd never actually planned on getting this far in the conversation. 

"I mean, it doesn't have to be... I- I just-" 

"-Cool, no it's cool if it is I-"  

They both paused, laughter erupting between them at the realization that they'd talked over one another. 

"Sorry, go ahead," Bucky said, biting down on his chapped lips to conceal his smile. 

Steve suddenly felt all giddy and lightheaded in the best way possible. 

"How does pizza sound?" he asked. 

"Sounds great."  
\\\\\

Jan 14, 2005

Steve could've sworn his pockets were nothing more than deep, dark, abysses; once something went inside, the likelihood of seeing it again was slim. It wasn't the most ideal situation, especially not when he was desperate to find something important, like a piece of paper. 

Correction: The piece of paper; the only piece of paper that mattered to him in that moment. The paper that he'd lazily thrown into the same pockets that he kept his gum and snotty tissues in; yeah, that paper. 

When Steve had initially been invited over to Bucky's house to "hang out," the idea felt so foreign to him. Not necessarily the idea of hanging out, but more so the idea of Steve going to Bucky's place instead of Bucky coming to his. It was always just so convenient to crash at Steve's, he lived on campus after all; the two could easily meet there after class, or of course, the reverse scenario. But this was different, this took effort, and planning, and some small form of commitment and... Steve would've been lying if he said the gesture didn't make his heart swell. 

When Steve managed to find the paper, he realized that the corner where he'd written Bucky's address was all crumpled to hell, the writing smudged by his own sweaty fingertips. Small waves of panic and frustration began to wash over him as he continued to stare at the paper; the address looking more and more illegible as time went on. 

Steve was almost certain that he was standing in front of Bucky's apartment building; he practically recited the address to himself a million times on the bus ride there. But 'almost' was a unreliable notion, and the small part of him that felt uncertain wasn't willing to walk into the wrong building. 

He considered running home to phone Bucky again, maybe then he could- 

"Steve?" 

"Oh... hiya Bucky," he said suddenly, tucking the piece of paper back into his pocket, "been waiting for me?"

Bucky was leaning through a window on the left side of the building where Steve had been stewing. He was about three floors up, long hair hanging around his shoulders like some sort of handsome Rapunzel. 

"Maybe," Bucky said with a bashful grin ,"what's that stuff you brought?"

He was doing it again; he was doing that smiling thing that Steve loved so much. It was so distracting, good distracting. Well it would've been good if Steve didn't have a one track mind. "What?..." 

Then suddenly, right on cue, Steve remembered the brown paper bag in his hand, the one he made an effort to bring on the bus ride and the two block walk. 'That stuff dummy,' he thought, silently kicking himself for being so embarrassing. 

"Oh yeah uh, I guess you'll have to let me in to find out," he said slyly. 

"Oh right," Bucky said, reluctantly pulling himself back inside, "yeah sorry, be right down," he yelled as he strayed farther away from the window. 

Bucky's apartment was quiet and tucked away from the rest of the city. The building itself looked like an old house, a charming antique, foliage covering every window and growing out of every crack. It made Steve feel oddly sentimental, the place brought back memories of visiting his grandma's house as a kid; yeah something like that. 

Bucky cleared his throat then, pulling Steve out of his stupor. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and a thin t-shirt despite it being cold outside, the frigid air causing goosebumps to rise all over his skin. 

Bucky slipped his cold arms into Steve's coat for a hug. Steve held him close with his free arm, eyes closing at the feeling of warm cheeks against his chest. They stood like that for a while, listening to the distant chaos that was New York, all wrapped up in each other. 

"Um, mom made muffins," Steve said slowly, "I dunno if you like muffins but... yeah, they're chocolate chip," he peered into the bag momentarily, "and uh, well wait... I guess they're chocolate chunk." 

Bucky laughed softly through his nose, biting his lip as he pulled away from Steve, the warmth of the moment fading. 

"I'll eat just about anything with chocolate in it, muffins included, tell your mom I said thank you," he said, plucking the bag from Steve's hands. 

Steve wished he hadn't said anything, he wanted Bucky to wrap his arms around the small of his back again, to have the warmth of his cheeks and the weight of Bucky's head against his chest. But that moment was gone, and before he knew it, he was being dragged into the building by the sleeve of his coat. 

They'd only been at it for a week, whatever it was they were doing. Bucky would call and Steve would let the landline ring twice, and after the second ring he'd pick up and say "Hey Bucky," or "hows it going," or "what's up?" and on rare occasion, "hiya Buck," and Bucky would reply with:

"Buck? That's new," and of course Steve would feel like an idiot but then Bucky would laugh and say something reassuring. They'd dance around the idea of making plans until they couldn't anymore and then Bucky would say something like, "when can we hang out again?," or Steve would say:

"I wanna see you, come over." Then they'd pretend to argue about what restaurant to go to, or what movie to watch when in reality they just wanted to hear each other talk. Then at the end of the day when it was time to go home, they would sit on a staircase, or sprawl out in Steve's dorm room and just talk about nonsense until they fell asleep. 

It had only been a week, a really good week. 

The tour of Bucky's apartment was short lived. It was manly comprised of two small bedrooms, a bathroom, and what looked to be the idea of a kitchen, all crammed into 650 square feet. It was understated and cozy; just what Steve would've expected from Bucky. 

"Steve, you're taking up the whole bed," Bucky said, lazily nudging Steve's arm.

"No I'm not, c'mere, look there's plenty of room for you," Steve said, resisting the urge to laugh as Bucky sheepishly crawled onto the bed, taking up the position as Steve's 'little spoon.'

Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky, pulling him into the mess of sheets and pillows and warm winter limbs. Bucky quickly settled in, snuggling into Steve as they talked about their plans for the evening. It was sweet and a little romantic, Bucky suggested going on a drive, or maybe if Steve was up for it "catch a late showing," of some movie neither of them had seen. 

But then Steve stopped paying attention, and the sweetness faded into pure hormones as he pushed himself impossibly closer to Bucky, affectionally nosing the nape of his neck. Bucky didn't seem to mind as he ran his hand along Steve's arm, the conversation still going on somehow despite Steve's lack of participation. 

Then, impulsively, under the spell of infatuation, or love, or whatever you want to call it, Steve slipped his hand beneath the fabric of Bucky's shirt, his fingertips dancing along the soft skin underneath. 

Bucky's stomach flexed and un-flexed beneath his touch, a small shudder coursing through his body as Steve trailed his fingers down to Bucky's hip. This was the kind of stuff Steve would see in a movie or read in book, it was very intimate, the way he touched Bucky, the way they held onto each other, it felt surreal. 

"-'re hand is cold," Bucky mumbled mid sentence, shifting a bit against Steve. 

Steve felt horribly awkward as he pulled away, mentally cursing himself for being so stupid. 

"Sorry-" he began. 

"No it's fine-"

"I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries, I just-" 

"No, Steve it's ok," Bucky assured, reaching out to touch Steve's arm again. He was staring back at Steve with that concerned look in eyes, the same concerned look he had the day they met, the silent 'are you alright?' look. "I didn't want you to stop." 

"What?" Steve asked. His head was swimming with an array of emotions, his heart beating a bit too fast as he tried to come down from his own personal embarrassment. 

"You didn't overstep any boundaries, I shouldn't have said anything." 

Suddenly the 'are you alright?' look seemed more like a 'are we alright?' look and it flickered over Bucky's face like a silent plea. Bucky trailed his fingers up and down Steve's arm, the air growing thick between them, the silence becoming almost maddening before Steve gave his head a little nod in response. 

And just like that they're in each other's personal space again, Bucky's fingers hooked around Steve's neck, their lips coming together, soft and slow. It's the warmest sensation in the world, Bucky's mouth on Steve's, their body's pressed together, hands gripping, breath mingling. They both taste like Steve's mom's chocolate muffins, that and saliva. At some point, Steve can't seem to remember when, Bucky had gotten closer, legs intertwining, hearts racing, fingers having dance recitals on each other's skin. Steve could've cried at the sound of Bucky's breathy moans, their kiss intensified, warmth pooling in Steve's gut, a quick glance at the lashes resting on Bucky's cheeks; it was simply the most perfect feeling. 

Then the intercom buzzed and Bucky pulled away from Steve, lips dark red and bitten, eyes glossy and unfocused, a little saliva pooling in the corners of his mouth. Steve wanted him again, already, lips against lips,  hands absentmindedly roaming; But Bucky was already up off the bed, wiping his mouth with a small laugh. 

"Sorry," he apologized, the buzzer going off once again, "that's probably my roommate, he always forgets his keys." 

Steve barely registered the muffled voice on the other end of the intercom as he drowned in the feeling of Bucky. He recalls a brief:  

"Hey, yeah ill run it down to you... I kind of have company." 

But that's pretty much it, everything disappeared, everything faded into one feeling, one color, one thought: 'Bucky.'

Steve took in the room around him, small and cozy, blankets upon blankets, Bucky's neutral colored wardrobe, a plant by the window, stacks of books and papers along the desk, a few black hair tie thingies, the occasional dust bunny. It was just a room, probably the most generic room he'd ever seen but- 

"I'll be back in like two seconds I'm gonna give him his key," Bucky said, throwing on a pair of slippers and snatching a silver key off of its hook. 

-but to Steve it was the place where he first kissed Bucky, the blue-blue-bluest eyed boy with the 90's film jacket. The handsome Rapunzel, the one who'll eat just about anything with chocolate in it, muffins included, the one with the smile and the warm cheeks. The one who had his heart. 

"Yeah sure, no problem."  
\\\\\

Feb 20, 2005

"No." 

Steve's eyes grew wide, his mouth stuttering nonsense as he let that word settle into the stubborn crevices of his brain. 'No?' 

"What? C'mon Tony, don't be that way," he said, putting on his best 'disappointed dad' voice, "It'll be fun, you two can finally meet." 

Steve was still in shock over Tony's unapologetic 'No.' He'd been brewing up this idea all week, it was so simple: a little get together at Tony's place, food, good conversation... you know? Normal stuff. It was the perfect opportunity for his best friends to meet his... his Bucky.

Tony quickly caught onto Steve's disappointment, his eyes falling soft, mouth quirking up in a small sweet smile. 

"You're serious about this guy aren't you? What was his name again? Barney?" Tony asked. 

"It's Bucky, and yes I'm serious," Steve began, sighing a bit, "Listen it would just be for a night, it doesn't have to be anything fancy, we could be lazy and order pizza or something." 

Tony paused to hum, he seemed to be considering the notion of pizza, a moment or two passing before he pursed his lips, "Yeah ok," he said, "fine we can have your weird date thing at my place this Saturday." 

Steve seemed to light up then, cheeks burning red, heart fluttering somewhere in his chest as he tried to conceal his smile. 

"Thanks Tony." 

"But," Tony started. 

Then Steve held his breath, watching as Tony's expression turned sheepish, his eyes falling to the floor. 

"You have to invite Bruce." 

"Who?" Steve asked. 

"Oh, you're kidding me... Bruce Banner? Two PhD's, genius rich kid? He's got that whole curly haired 'is he Jewish?' Vibe going on," Tony explained. 

"Oh ok... and you, like him?" Steve asked.  
Steve had never known Tony Stark to hold back when it came to discussing the objects of his affection, but there in that moment he saw his best friend turn bashful. 

Tony shrugged, "I like his brain." 

Steve noticed the way Tony's lashes danced around the warmth of his eyes, the nervousness in his voice, the tremor in his otherwise precise and steady hands. He smiled to himself. 

"Alright I'll invite him, do you know where he is?" 

Tony cleared his throat then, taking a deep breath before gathering his things to head to class. "No clue, check the many science departments, maybe the library who knows!  
Thanks in advance," he said quickly, getting up to leave the cafeteria before Steve even had the chance to protest. 

If this were some kind of romantic comedy movie then this would be the part were we see a montage of Steve running around campus in search of Tony's beloved Bruce. 

But this isn't a romantic comedy... well, it is but we're on a budget so just imagine Steve in various settings to the tune of 'From Now On," by: The Features. 

"You alright there?" 

Steve breathed in heavily through his nose, leaning against the cool mental of the elevator, sweat gathering on his temple and running down his cheeks. 

He looked up then, meeting a pair of concerned eyes, his face seeming to grow hotter than it already was. 

"Yeah I'm fine, do I uh.. not look fine?" He asked. 

"Well I mean, you look fine, it's just you're all sweaty and out of breath." 

Steve nodded, wiping the sweat from his face, composing himself in order to preserve what little dignity he had left. 

"Oh yeah, well I was trying to make it to the lecture hall before it closed. I'm kinda looking for someone." 

The stranger nodded, smiling awkwardly. 

"Oh like... some weird adult hide and seek?"

Steve considered that, cocking his head to the side, "Well kinda, except it's more like I'm seeking and the other person doesn't know it." 

"Oh, like stalking." 

Steve nodded in defeat, "It's damn near becoming that," he sighed, "It's just that I asked my friend to host this get together thing... but he said he'd only do it if I got this guy Bruce to come so, well, you got the rest of the story, one sided hide and seek and all." 

"Bruce Banner?"

Steve nodded without skipping a beat. 

"Yeah apparently he has like two phds? And is like a genius." The stranger smiled at that, shrugging. 

"I mean I have 3 phds but, who's counting?" He said nonchalantly, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

Steve sat in ignorance and sweat for the better part of a minute before the gears in his brain started turning and the gravity of the situation hit him. He turned to look at the man beside him, mouth slack with shock. 

"Oh you're kidding me," he breathed, 'wow Tony was right, he definitely looks Jewish.' 

"Nope I've even got the paper work to prove it." he assured, "So when and where is this get together?" 

All Steve could bring himself to do was nod at Bruce, his eyes still wide and his mouth still hanging open like a dumb pelican who was doomed for survival. Then quickly he sobered up, clearing his throat and continuing to wipe his temples. 

"Saturday, 8:00pm, Tony's house I'll send you the address," he said, just like he rehearsed. 

Bruce smiled, taking a moment to reach into his bag and pull out a shiny new business card; he handed it to Steve, stepping out of the elevator and onto the 5th floor. 

"Alright I'll be there."  
\\\\\

Feb 26, 2005 

When the doorbell rang everything in the house fell still, quiet, bodies tense with anticipation, not a single breath inhaled or exhaled. 

"I'll get it," Steve murmured almost inaudibly, breaking the silence, giving up his position on Tony's loveseat in order to fetch the door. 

The sky outside was on the cusp of going dark; purples and pinks and yellows hanging over the rooftops with an air so chilly your breath would be visible. Steve answered the door, cheeks pink and heart swaying and dry eyes and chapped lips and knuckles that were rigid with the cold. 

He saw Bucky, standing there, the tips of his ears burning red, the tips of his fingers dull and purple. He was wearing a pilots jacket, all worn leather and stiff edges, hair swept to the side, neck red and blotchy and covered in memories of Steve. 

Bucky saw him too, standing there, a smile creeping onto his face. 

"Hey Buck," Steve said finally, reaching out to touch the sleeve of the pilot jacket.

"Hey Steve," Bucky chuckled in return. 

That was all it took really, all it took for Steve's heart to ache, and ache, and ache all over again for Bucky. He wrapped his arms around the brunette then, leaning forward to rub their noses together affectionately, capturing Bucky's mouth in a soft kiss, tasting mint and coffee on his lips. 

Bucky sighed against him, slipping his hands beneath Steve's shirt for warmth. 

"I gotta say I'm a little nervous to meet your pals-" he began. 

"No, don't be nervous you're all gonna get along great," Steve said, placing his hand against Bucky's cheek. 

Bucky nodded, placing his hand over Steve's, warmth blooming over their skin. Steve kissed him again, soft and chaste, and then he did it again for good measure, and again until Bucky's chest started erupting with laughter. 

Bucky pulled back, grinning as he wiped the saliva from Steve's mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "Jesus Steve," he whispered with another laugh, shaking his head. 

"Well look who it is," Tony said suddenly, causing both Steve and Bucky to jump.  
He'd been standing in the doorway, an all knowing look on his face. "Hey, Barney right? Listen it's kinda cold out here, why don't you guys come inside? Or I mean, if you prefer freezing you can keep sucking-face on my porch." 

Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky's waist, pulling him in close, chuckling a bit. 

"Bucky this is my best friend Tony, Tony this is Bucky," he said, "don't take anything he says personally Buck, he has no filter." 

Tony scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at Steve, "Hey, I resent that statement, I apply a filter when I find it necessary," he began, turning to Bucky, "and It's nice to finally meet you, this doofus doesn't shut up about you."  

"It's nice to meet you too Tony," Bucky said, "I'm glad to know Steve's got me on his mind even when I'm not around," he continued, leaning his head against Steve's shoulder. 

"Yeah well it would be nice if I could make it through one single day without hearing about how kissable your face is, or how nice your ass looks in a pair of sweats," Tony said.

Steve instantly turned red all over, clearing his throat as he pulled away from Bucky; his head spinning with embarrassment. He didn't want Bucky to be uncomfortable, especially not when he was meeting Steve's friends for the first time, he could only imagine how mortified Buck must've felt. 

And then, as if he was sensing Steve's uneasiness, Bucky reached down to grab Steve's hand, giving it a little reassuring squeeze. 

"and I'm the one with a filter problem," Tony continued as he began to walk inside, "yeah ok." 

They shared the loveseat, Bucky and him. Thighs touching and shoulders clashing as Bucky picked the crust off his pizza and put it on Steve's plate. 

Out of the corner of his eye Steve could see Tony's hand on Bruce's thigh, the two of them discussing incomprehensible science topics while the rest of the group took turns embarrassing Steve. They talked about his sense of style, or lack thereof, talked about his love for animals and how he cried over roadkill, talked about his inability to handle scary movies and his fear of heights. 

Steve could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into the couch, arms crossed as he burned up in his seat. Bucky on the other hand was thoroughly enjoying himself, crying form laughter and laughing from crying and rubbing Steve's back in the process. 

By the time Tony kicked them all out -something about beauty sleep- the sky had  
gone dark; the purple, pink, and yellow hues gone and replaced by the harmonious glow of city lights. 

Steve tried to make out Bucky's face in the dark - nose, mouth, chin, reduced to a silhouette; leaving him to imagine the face he'd spent so much time trying to remember. 

He imagined the glow of Bucky's red cheeks, the blue in his eyes, the hair tucked behind his ears, the pilots jacket and the way the dark leather contrasted with his skin. He imagined his smile, and his teeth, and the stubble that coated his jaw and the hickeys left behind after some time spent alone. 

He imagined Bucky's head tilted back with laughter, brows, mouth, crinkled eyes, the way he always covered his face with his hands out of embarrassment- 

"I can feel you staring at me Stevie," Bucky said, biting his lip. 

"Sorry," Steve mumbled. He rubbed his thumb along Bucky's temple, tucking a lose strand of hair behind his ear. It was so easy with Bucky, everything about being with Bucky was like breathing for Steve, it came naturally. 

"Do you wanna come over," Steve asked, he didn't want the night to end, he didn't want this to end. 

Bucky nodded, touching his hand to Steve's chest, a smile tugging at his lips in the dark. 

"Yeah, course I do." 

As soon as they made it to the dorm, Bucky shrugged off his jacket, placing it on Steve's bed with shaky hands. They looked at each other, they couldn't stop, goofy smiles, and big eyes, and fluttering lashes. 

"Showers are down the hall," Steve whispered, taking Bucky's hand. Bucky swallowed, nodding as he pulled away from Steve, beginning to shed his clothes. They both did, shirts and pants and socks all in sync, Steve's eyes never leaving Bucky's, not even for a moment. 

Steve ran his fingertips down the length of Bucky's body, feeling his soft skin; warm, and smooth, and trembling. They kissed, Steve's hands tender on either side of Bucky's face, lips sliding, and breath stuttering, and mouths swollen red. 

Bucky was the first to pull away, he was breathing hard, chest heaving. They stared at each other for a long moment, shy smiles creeping onto their faces, hands dropping to their sides, fingers curling with excitement. 

They grabbed a few towels to wrap around themselves, Steve tearing into the unopened pack of condoms under his bed, hiding them in the folds of his towel as they tip-toed down the hall. 

The warmth of the shower sent chills down Bucky's spine; eyes screwing shut and hair slicking back and mouth falling open as Steve gripped his hips from behind, lips falling to his neck, making new bruises where the old ones had faded. 

It was a slow and steady heat between them; hands, and breaths, and cries, and weak knees, and soaring hearts and the undeniable closeness they felt. 

There was a moment where Steve felt the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, he held Bucky, resting his head along his shoulder, rubbing small circles into his skin. He was overwhelmed in every possible way, his chest tightening with an emotion so strong he felt sick off of it, drunk off of it. He pulled the brunette impossibly closer, lips hovering over the shell of his ear, heart throbbing, and hands shivering, and tears streaming and just every possible emotion flooding his body all at once. 

"I love you," he said. 

And then, with the water surrounding them and the steam expanding, and the lights glowing, and the weight of Steve's head on his shoulder; Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, body shaking sweetly in the loving embrace. 

"I love you too, so much."  
\\\\\ 

Apr 15, 2005

Bucky closed his eyes as he laid his head against Steve's chest, the breeze from outside filtering in through the open window, the sound of birds and bees and rippling water filling the room around them. 

It was beautiful and serene; The lake house. 

It was like they were boys again, that spring, tracking dirt into the house and laughing and manhandling and making the floors wet with their soggy swim shorts. They got sunburns and blisters and grime under their fingernails and didn't think to stop until they were forced to out of exhausted.

That was the spring Steve taught Bucky how to paint, and in return Bucky taught Steve how to float on his back, both of them teaching each other how to dance along to the old-timey songs on the radio. 

The lake house was quiet at night, the sound of crickets chirping in the distance was all that could be heard for miles and miles. Steve ran a hand through Bucky's hair, smiling to himself. 

"Do you think you could ever see yourself  marrying me?" Steve asked nonchalantly. It was by no means a proposal, it was just one of those silly questions you ask for the heck of it. 

Bucky propped himself up on his elbow, grinning down at Steve's sunburned face, brushing his fingers through the thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

"Yeah, I suppose I could."  
\\\\\ 

Jan 25, 2006

They exchanged vows in the summer of 05'. 

Steve held Bucky's hand one evening in Tony's backyard and told him he loved him. loved his blue eyes and his goofy smile and that thing he did with his eyebrows when he was concentrating. Loved how kind, and tender, and optimistic, and full of light he was. Steve loved his touch, and his voice, and the feeling of being wrapped up in him; the feeling of just being with him. "I somehow got the cute guy from English class to fall in love with me," he said jokingly behind a few tears. 

Bucky touched Steve's face, rubbing his thumb along the wetness there. He told Steve that he admired him, and adored him, and that he was so in love with him that it was painful at times. He loved his loyalty, and his stubbornness, and his perseverance. He loved Steve's heart, and his mind and the way he had creative solutions for all of his problems. He loved how Steve made him feel safe, and protected, without fear, without worry. He loved Steve's affection and his willingness to listen and the way their hands fit together and so much more. 

They sealed the deal with a soggy kiss and a pair of rings that Tony made himself and, that was that.  

They moved in together not a week later, they'd found a little loft that fit in their budget, a place with enough room for Steve to set up an art studio and for Bucky to have a library. It was a lovely home and It was a beautiful summer, but as soon as it came, it was gone and school had started up again. 

It got cold again, colder than the year before, Steve would've called it deja vu but  he figured so many things had changed since last winter that it couldn't hardly be deja vu. 

He was sitting on the couch that evening, socks covering his feet, tea on the coffee table beside him, the radio playing something nostalgic - the volume turned low- a book sitting comfortably in his hand, 2, 3, 4 chapters deep. He sighed, tugging the throw blanket over his shoulder, his reading glasses quirking oddly against the couch cushions, the sound of rain and snow conspiring against the window- 

And then the landline rang. 

"I'll be home soon," Bucky said, phoning Steve from campus. Steve could hear the sleep in his voice, could hear the drowsiness and the slurring and the frustration. He glanced up at the wall clock, sighing. 

"Bucky you sound exhausted, let me pick you up, or at least let me call you a cab," he said, pulling himself off the couch and heading to the kitchen in search of the phone book. Bucky laughed a tired laugh, Steve knew that was the "Steve you're ridiculous" laugh. 

"I'm fine Steve, you worry too much," he began, "I'm like 20 minutes away it'll be fine." 

Steve wasn't convinced, he felt apprehensive. 

"Just... I'll pick you up, I'll be quick I just need to throw a jacket on," he said running to his closet to retrieve something warm, anything warm. His heart was starting to beat with an unfamiliar pang of anxiety, he was suddenly desperate to get Bucky and bring him home. 

It was Bucky's turn to sigh, Steve could hear him shifting on the other end of the phone. 

"What happens if we leave my car and it gets buried under the snow? We can't afford to have it towed Stevie," he said. 

Steve paused, "Yeah I know but Buck-" 

"Listen I'll come straight home," Bucky promised, "no detours, no stops and I'll be there before you know it." Steve let his end of the conversation hang in silence for a long moment. It was a shit-show outside, he couldn't let Bucky drive home by himself, not when he sounded like he was about to fall asleep on the phone. Steve chewed on his lip, the tow charges would only set them back a months rent, he could borrow money from his mom- 

"Steve?" 

Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. He cleared his throat. 

"Let me just-"

"Steve." 

"...Okay, If you're sure." Steve said in a quiet voice, he knew he'd lost the argument at that point, he could hear Bucky getting agitated on the other end of the phone. 

"I'm sure," He said, the sweetness in voice returning and causing Steve's heart to ache, "I love you, I'll see you soon." 

"Alright, I love you too, see you soon." 

And he really hoped he would - see Bucky soon that is. But the roads were ice and the wind was whipping the snow around like a tornado, and the rain was beating down like a drum, and the exhaustion, and the sleep, and the honking of horns, and the traffic lights, and the slipping of hands against the wheel, and the shouting, and shattering, and heaving and finally- 

Steve's landline rang again, and this time his heart sank.


End file.
